The forgotten year at Hogwarts
by AzulButtercup
Summary: Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts.The age old question Malfoy, Harry, or Neville?Don't worry, action/love interst s will build up. I'd love constructive reviews.
1. A year of few Weaslys

Ginny Weasly sighed, and slumped in her seat. For the first time in her life, she was going to be alone in Hogwarts. No brothers, no Harry, or Hermione. All by her lonesome. She couldn't decide if that was liberating, or terribly depressing. A croak, brought her out of her musings. A giant toad sat next to her, blinking up with orb like yellow eyes.

"Trevor," She said softly, looking around for Neville. No where to be seen.

"Some things never change," Ginny said with a smile. Gently she scooped up the toad. Through it's thin velvet skin she could feel the tiny ba boom, ba boom, ba boom, of it's heart.

"They don't do they? I know you're family is poor, but really a toad, instead of an owl. Blood traitors or no, I'd have though that had some more class," Malfoy said, from the doorway. Ginny didn't even give him the grace of looking up. She wondered when he'd snuck up, she hadn't even heard the door.

"I know Trevor. I don't know why he bothers. You'd think he'd have some mates of his own to talk to wouldn't you," she crooned to the toad, then finally looked up, voice hard, "because frankly, I don't give a damn what you think about me, so fuck off."

"Harsh words from a girl who's wearing third generation hand-me downs," Malfoy shot back, laughing as she glanced down at the fraying sleeves of her green sweater.

"If I was you, I would be careful about who I angered," He said, stepping closer with each word, "A new year has begun." Ginny studied him. His ever present smirk was gone, his face oddly clean, young without it. Void emotionless eyes, the color of half melted ice watched her reaction. She saw a glint of red, and realized with a jolt that it was her hair. Something occurred to her then, while she realized that she was the only red headed Weasly on this train.

"I always thought that you were an arse to me because of Ron, but now he doesn't even go to this school, so why are even talking to me?" Ginny asked, without malice. Malfoy lifted a brow.

"Since when do I need I reason?" he asked. Ginny glared at him.

"Ok. Fine," she shrugged. Then stood up, smoothed her skirt down her pale thighs, and placed Trevor back on the red vinyl seat. Slowly, hips swinging back and forth, she walked towards him, placing a delicate hand on the door.

"No truce," She said, then tore open the door, with a solid whoosh, and shoved Draco into the other compartment. With a slam, she shut the door, grinning at his shocked expression.

Neville paused, wondering why Draco was sitting on the floor, staring up at the window into the other compartment. He stayed where he was, afraid to make any sudden movements, so as to draw attention to himself. As he watched the slytherin boy slowly start to turn a dangerous scarlet, he caught a glimpse of Ginny on the other side. His fists curled, dull nails digging into his palms.

He'd spent the last year training in Dumbledore's army, getting ready to fight you-know-who, and the death eater's who'd destroyed his parents, but he couldn't stand up to Draco Malfoy. Gripping his wand, hexs dancing on his lips, he stepped over a shocked Malfoy, and into the other compartment. In a rush of brilliant locks, and purple robes, Ginny enveloped him in a hug.

"Neville," she cried, muffled into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist, settling his hands on her hips.

"I don't know how we're going to make it through the year. Hogwarts won't be the same without Dumbledore," She sighed, leaving the unsaid hanging in the air. Neville knew that she'd miss Harry a fair bit more than she'd miss Dumbledore. He let go of her reluctantly as she pulled away.

"So…Where are they," he asked, lowering his voice. Ginny's eyes widened, her scarlet brows rose.

"What do you mean," She asked innocently.

"Ginny, if they aren't here then the three of them are obviously off doing something important, I heard them talking last year. Am I right, are they doing a mission for Dumbledore?" he asked eagerly.

"You know I can't say anything," Ginny whispered, neglecting to mention that she didn't have a clue. The three of them had fallen silent every time she'd entered a room over the summer. It'd gotten so maddening that by august, she just ignored them, rather than be put out of the loop.

"Like you've got a damn idea," Malfoy interrupted. He'd entered the compartment unnoticed, and was now leaning against a wall, smug, self-satisfied smirk back too stay. Neville narrowed his eyes, and moved to step forward, and for the first time Ginny noticed how tall he'd grown, her head barely reached his shoulder.

"What did you mean that this is going to be a 'new year'? Specifically, not general, I'm-so-intimidating-so-I-must-make-ominous-statements information," She clarified.

"All I'm saying is that the time for Slytherins to take their rightful place as the betters of Hogwarts has come. If I was you little Weasel I'd be careful who I insulted," Malfoy said. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You said that before. I mean, what exactly will be different? Or are you just all talk?" Ginny taunted

"You'll have to find out for yourself. I won't ruin the surprise," Malfoy replied, then walked away, slamming the door as he went.

"He's still full of bullshit," Ginny said sadly. Too bad, he's such a git. And the son of a death eater. He sure is fit, she thought.

The train jerked to a stop. Ginny smacked the door, her shoulder hitting solidly, a bruise for tomorrow. Neville flew forward, throwing his hands up just before they collided, so that he pined her to the door. Ginny sighed, inhaling, and wondering when Neville started wearing cologne. They stood like that for a few seconds, bodies hovering too close, before the bustle of students filing out shattered the silence.

"Sorry. I, uh, tripped, and what not," Neville mumbled, drawing away.

"It's okay," Ginny said firmly. She combed her fingers through her hair absently, and tried to take another deep breathe. Every thing will be okay. I'll be good, and keep my head down. And he-who-must-not-be-named will be defeated. And I'll stop ogling every available male in Hogwarts. I Will Get Through This Year.

"Now that's the spirit," Neville said. Ginny blushed, brilliant molted red spread from the apples of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She hadn't realized she'd said the last part out loud.

"C'mon, we've got some Slytherins to defeat," he said, tugging her down the platform towards the school, not bothering to lower his voice. They pushed through the crowd, past cages of irritated owls, and scurrying bags, banners of school colors, overwhelmingly green and silver.

"I do suppose that Hogwarts is currently in the need of some Gryffindor bravery," Ginny sung merrily. Throwing her shoulders back, she stepped into the carriage, taking one last deep inhale.


	2. Not a maiden

Hundreds of voices echoed off the stone walls of the great hall. Deep baritones, high falsettos, sharp and clippie, smooth and sugary sweet, Ginny closed her eyes. She soaked in the laughter of the four houses, nervous, braying, beautiful and jingling. Something was missing. It wasn't quite right. She opened her eyes, and for the first time noted her classmates. Malfoy and his band of Slytherins stood in a circle, Pansy's trademark whiny bouncing off the walls. She probably thought she sounded charming. Familiar faces, with no names, mostly Hufflepuffs gathered near a coat of arms. Except that tall girl, with the frizzy strawberry hair, and the love for neon fish nets was missing, her boy friend looked oddly separate, standing there by himself, without her tongue down his throat. The group of Ravenclaws that were always discussing some impossible homework chatted, but their leader a fourth year with a loud voice and unfortunate oily skin was missing. Now that she really looked, Ginny realized that many of her classmates were absent, from the hall.

"Where is everyone?" She asked aloud. Lavender Brown appeared out of no where.

"They're parents took them out of school. The only reason they were allowed to come here before was Dumbledore, but now, they don't see much of a difference. At least at home I guess, they're with family," She said, then wrinkled her nose, and added, "Though I don't know why anyone would want to be stuck at home with their mum. I'd rather be at Hogwarts. If he-who-must-not-be-named is taking over I want a fit lad to protect me, not my father." Ginny smiled pleasantly, nodding and walked away before Lavender could continue.

Finally, with a groan the front doors to the dining room opened. The crowd rushed forward, a giant mass of swishing robes, and nervous teenagers.

"Who do you 'rekon will be the new Headmaster?" Seamus Finnegan chatted with a fourth year Gryffindor, with curly brown locks.

"I dunno, but I hope it isn't Umbridge. I've still got scars," the fourth year said. He held up his hand, attempting to look valiant. Out of the corner of her eye Ginny read, the worn pink skin. I won't snog in abandoned broom closets.

"Nah," Seamus scoffed, "Everyone knows she was kidnapped by killer unicorns."

"Killer unicorns?" the fourth year replied skeptically.

"Yes, haven't you been taught anything? Every one knows that unicorns attack anyone who isn't a maiden," Seamus said.

"So you're saying that someone shagged Umbridge?" Cormac cut in.

"Good god NO," Seamus shouted. Heads turned.

"No. That is not what I meant at all. I bet that they just thought she was a bloke so they attacked her anyway," Seamus stated, as that was the obvious conclusion. Everyone chortled, and shrugged letting it go. They sat down at their table, and stared up at the empty chairs of the teachers.

"I like all this elbow room if I do say so myself," Seamus said. He flapped his arms up and down like a flustered canary.

"You realize that it's because we're the only ones left," Ginny said, still watching the teachers chairs contently. A silence settled on the table, as everyone thought it over.

"Jeez, thanks for ruining the mood Ginny," Lavender finally said.

"What do you care, Lavender? You aren't exactly a shining star of hope. I heard you in the great hall two minutes ago saying that you always knew that he-who-must-not-be-named would rise again," Neville retorted. He glared at her across the table.

"Cheer up. We rule this school as of now. I for one think that we should at least TRY to coexist. Something tells me that this is going to be a very long year," Ginny said. She sighed, turning pointedly towards the teachers table and waited.


	3. I Hope they're nice

Snape walked to the table, the room dining hall suddenly became so silent that each clicking step he took could be heard. An errie smile that on most other people would be called a grimace, twisted his lips. He waited until not a single student dared to utter a word.

"I will be replacing Albus Dumbledore as Headmaster," He said, then let it settle over the crowd. Cold eyes assessed the students, so much as a whisper, and he would implement his first new rule. No more disrespect in his school.

"There are also several additions to the staff. But you'll have to learn of them tomorrow, in your classes," He said, his grim attempt at a smile faded.

"This is a new year. A word to the wise, disrespect will be punished SEVERLY. I will not tolerate unruliness, and neither will your new teachers," Snape said. He paused again.

"Let the sorting of the Houses begin," He gestured widely towards the old hat. The jittery stream of first years entered the room. They huddled together, eyes wide and glassy as they took in the grand room. The ceiling was a clear deep blue, sprinkled with stars that dusted the heavens. Enchanted candles in lines of twos hovered over each table, casting all of the students in deep shadows, making them appear otherworldly, and vaguely menacing.

"You know what's funny?" Ginny whispered across the table as the sorting commenced.

"He still isn't the Defense Against the Dark arts teacher," She continued. Everyone snorted, not looking Snape in the eyes.

"Do you think that the new teachers will be nice?" Lavender asked. The entire table gaped at her. She applied sticky enchanted lip gloss that made her lips plump within two seconds. More bee stung allergic reaction then sexy.

"I don't mean nice, like kind," She said rolling her eyes.

"I mean nice, like attractive," She explained.

"I think that they're Death Eaters, so whether they're attractive or not, they're trouble," Ginny replied. It took self control she didn't know she possessed to be cordial to Lavender. She used the energy she would've liked to slap her, to bend the spoon.

This really is going to be a long year, if I'm going to have to survive stupid tarts, and Death Eaters, she thought.

"Obviously I'm the only one at this table with standards," Lavender exclaimed, and then proceeded to ignore them.

"The only shallow twit, more like it," Seamus muttered. The Gryffindor table watched the sorting in silence.

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

"Not a bad turn out all things considering," said Ginny. She surveyed the first years from the comfort of an old lounge chair by the fire place in the common room. Sitting there, the last Weasley to pass through the Fat Lady's door, she suddenly felt incredibly old. The next generation of Gryffindors clutched their bags, some of them still hadn't quite figured out how to correctly grasp their wands. They did a funny sort of cradling thing with them, so it looked as if they were cuddling twigs.

"When did I grow up," she said, to no one in particular.

"It happened quite suddenly. One day, you were that little fourth year, the Weasley girl, and then the next thing I know I turn around and you got tits. And an arse," Seamus said, distantly, recollecting fond memories, of the discovery of the attractive Weasley. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he stared into the fire.

Neville watched horrified, as Seamus Finnigan proceeded to flirt with Ginny. He didn't think people where allowed to do it. Ron had said he'd hex any one who even considered ogling his sister.

"I-I always thought you were pretty Ginny," He blurted out, trying to make up for lost flirtation. Ginny blinked. Opened her mouth. Blinked. Opened her mouth.

"Thank you, Neville, you've grown quite tall over the summer," She finally said, to the amazement of the common room.

"I think I'll go to bed now," She stated, and stood. The fire gleamed on her auburn locks, strands of gold, and copper shining. Her legs were a bit wobbly, she wasn't sure how she made it to her bed, but she found herself laying underneath the covers, giddy laughter threatening to rupture.

Somehow, this year she was a sex-pot. A certified, desirable girl. She didn't even know where to begin with this new found power. Should she wear shorter skirts, or cover up a bit. Mascara, eyeliner, dare she say it…eye shadow.

But then again the boys seemed to like her just the way she was, in ratty old sweaters, and a bit of muggle lip gloss that Hermione had given her the year before. God, she was going to kill Ron for driving them away all these years. That is, she thought, if some Death Eater doesn't first. She drifted off to a lonely fitful sleep.


	4. If you say so

Staring down at her porridge, Ginny couldn't help but think that she'd gotten the short end of the deal. Not only did she have to subsist on cold grainy oatmeal, in a sea of unknown dangers, impossible challenges, and very bitchy girls, but she wouldn't even get any credit for saving the wizarding world and mankind in general like Ron and Harry and Hermione probably would.

Funny how he saves the world every year. He's off rescuing us all from impending doom, and I'm sitting in the dining room, next to owls, and cold porridge. Strange world I live in. She sighed, and took a bite.

An elbow dug into her side. She glared, at that elbow.

"What?" She said a tad crossly. She was happier moping over her porridge.

"Professor Snape," Neville answered through a muffled bit of toast. The talking slowly ceased, as Snape made his way towards the teacher's table.

"As of this year there will be no more Prefects," He said. Silence. He rolled his eyes.

"Instead, the most exemplary students will be officers. They will, along with the teachers not only have the ability to mark points from the houses, but also reprimand rule-breakers," He said. This time he stopped, satisfied with the shock value of his statement. He counted. 1, blank stares. 2, curiousity. 3, dawning comprhension. 4, furrowed brows. 5, utter rage. The dining room erupted.

Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff turned into giant masses of angry teenager. Voices rose angry bellows, a giant humming roar.

Ginny screamed along with them, letting her voice melt away into all the rest.

"That's not fucking fair. This is a school not a popularity contest," she yelled with the other Gryffindors. Panic began to set in. She couldn't be stuck at this school with these power hungry lunatics for an entire year. The school began to cave in on her. How dare they trap her here, and force her to swallow their idiotic rules. There was no way this would end well.

"Sit down," Snap said calmly at first. No one paid him any mind.

"I said SIT DOWN," he repeated. Reluctantly, everyone sat.

"Wanker," Ginny said, loud enough for the other students to hear. She plopped down then, feeling as if she did her duty.

"Strong reactions when I haven't named the school officers yet. Though your reactions do re affirm my choices," he comment drily. The Slytherin table unmoved until that moment, grinned in unison.

"Professor McGonagall however will be the one who has the pleasure of informing you all of the candidates. Professor," he said. With a wave of his arm he gestured for her to step forward. Looking as if she was about to be physically ill, she began to speak.

"The officers will be Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode. Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. All from Slytherin," she said, as if that fact was astonishing. Then as if remembering it wasn't glared at Snape through her bifocals.

"You're all dismissed," Snape said, not bothering to look at the students. He glared back at Professor McGonagall. The students left in a hurry. They couldn't take many more new 'rules'.

"I warned you on the train to behave better," a quiet mocking voice to her right drawled. Ginny looked up from her schedule. Malfoy matched her quick pace in long steady strides, a smooth stroll. Sometimes Ginny hated being petite. She could never out run anyone.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" she said taking the bait. Glancing up from the crumpled piece of paper ever so often. The early morning sun light hit his hair, illuminating it, unearthly glowing silver. His skin was so pale, she had the distinct urge to reach out and touch it.

"Well, my little blood traitor. That means ten points from Gryffindor," he said, with a grin that exposed sharp white canine teeth.

"For what? I've barely even unpacked my things, and you're marking points off," Ginny said. She was beginning to forget why she'd thought a truce between the two of them was possible. The problem was clearly not Ron.

"Language. You called the esteemed Professor Snape a wanker," Malfoy said.

"You don't give a damn about Professor Snape-" His smile cut her off. Malicious and condescending it deeply resembled the few times that she had the displeasure of meeting Lucious Malfoy.

"I know that you're family is trash, so I really shouldn't expect you speak in a manner any more refined than a common whore, but I'll have to dock another ten points," he said. Her eyes widened, mouth parted, a muted scream of rage escaped her lips. It took an effort not flinch. Given his record with her in the past any time she got that red tint, he nose scrunched delicately, she'd bat boogey hexed him.

"I know you're family consists of Pureblood classist Death Eaters, so I really shouldn't expect anything resembling ettiquitte from you, but I think that I shall never speak to you again," Ginny improvised on the spot. Turning on her heel, in a flurry of auburn mane she stormed away, in search of Muggle Studies.

After ten minutes of searching she finally found the classroom. Granted she wasn't exactly sure how she got there, or what floor she was on, but the important thing was that she got there by herself. Happily she ripped open the door, and was rewarded with the sight of Malfoy sitting on a desk.

She badly wanted to ask why he was there, but she couldn't very well say she'd never speak to him again, ten minutes ago, and then start a conversation. Instead she perched on a desk at the opposite end of the classroom, placing her bag on the ground haughtily and ignored his existence. His smirk vanished, cold eyes bore into her.

They sat in a tense war of wills for a few minutes, before Ginny finally broke.

"Who teaches this class?" She said. After eight long minutes of silence she looked back at him. His smirk returned in full glory.

"Why would I tell you?"

"Because you're a Slytherin. You know."

"Of course I know. What I asked is why should I tell you?"

"Nevermind," Ginny sighed. Then muttered loudly, "Arse." Malfoy ground his teeth, molars clenched tight. God Gryffindors could be self-rightous little bitches, he thought.

"Professor Alecto," he answered with a shrug. He had nonchalance down to an art.

"Alecto?"

"Yes. That's what I said," Malfoy replied, irritated.

"As in the Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"So all of our teachers are Death Eaters?"

"That'd be the idea."

Malfoy watched her body collapse. She cradled her head, elbows propped up on knees. Her skirt rode up, revealing pale thigh. A curtain of heavy red hair covered her face, and he listened to a few muffled sounds. Her body heaved. He couldn't decide if it was with laughter, or sobbing.

The room was suddenly a emptier, with just the two of them. It felt oddly intimate, to watch her hunched over on that desk, body shaking. He cleared his throat, then realized that he had no idea what to say.

She straightened, tossing her hair back, and yanking down her skirt a few inches.

"Alright then. Huh, I suppose things could be worse," She said with all the cheer she could muster. Malfoy nearly sighed in relief, he'd though she was having a mental break.

"If you say so," he said shutting her down, leaving her to ponder that statement.They sat just listening to the air, waiting for the arrival of the other students, when they heard the click of heels, and utterance of a collection of vocabulary that'd make a sailor blush. Professor Alecto had arrived.


	5. Nothing

A woman in obsidian robes entered the room, her hair pulled into a severe black bun. She hesitated when she saw that only two students had arrived, but then a slow, cruel smile replaced the curiosity.

"One out of two," she said, with a mirthless laugh, winking at Malfoy. He gave her a thin smile.

"Where are the rest of your comrades, you little blood traitor? Did you tell them not to come?" Professor Alecto asked. She stepped closer in short aggressive strides.

"I-I-um," Ginny stuttered. She'd had people attack her before. Malfoy did it every chance he had, but rarely had adults gone farther than implications that her family was poor. She tried to think of some response. She said the first thing that came to mind.

"No."

"No?" Alecto took another step closer, leaning slightly forward.

"No," she repeated, finally pulling herself together.

"As far as I know they're lost. You took your time getting here yourself didn't you?" Ginny replied. She straightened her back, rising to full height. Her voice sounded so familiar, that edge and poise, it took her a second to realize why. Good god, she sounded like her mother.

Malfoy watched on, pleasantly surprised, he'd never seen her so cheeky. She'd pay for it, for certain. Too bad, she wasn't horrid looking when she sat like that, actually… nice. Rebellion incarnated.

Without warning, Alecto took another aggressive step. The step unfortunately turned into a lung. She wrapped her bony scared hands around the mass of Ginny's hair yanking. From the peripheral of her vision, Ginny could see the Dark mark, branded into her arm. She'd never been so close to one.

"I will not stand for dirty blood traitors talking back," Alecto whispered. Her hot breathe assaulted Ginny's ear, too hot, and close. Her nails dug deep into Ginny's scalp drawing blood, little cuts that started to well blood, tainting her hair.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Giny tried to keep the tears that were building from sliding down her cheeks. Instead, she griped the inside of her palm, letting her own nails break the soft skin. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't let that bitch see you cry, she chanted in her head.

"Filthy trash," Alecto snarled, tossing Ginny to the side. Before she registered what was happening, she was tugged to her feet. A solid body was grasping her waist, trying to hold her up. For a second she thought it was Malfoy.

"Are you okay?" No, too caring. She steadied herself, and looked up. Neville. He was valiantly attempting to both hold her up, and challenge Alecto. He was grasping her waste, each finger nearly embedded in her hip, a grim expression replacing his normal cheerful smile. As if he would quite certainly kill her if it was necessary.

"I've been better," She replied, then casually stepped behind him. It didn't seem wise to be between the boy whose parents had been brutally savaged by death eaters, and a follower of he-who-must-not-be-named.

"Oi, what's everyone doing," Seamus entered the room. Four faces turned to him, one non-chalant, one scarlet with rage, one cold, and one rather startled.

"This is Muggle Studies. Right," he said, looking for confirmation.

"Yes, we've had a rough start," Ginny whispered to him, then turned to the task at hand: mediating the tension she'd started. She wrapped her arm around Neville's waste and dragged him away from Alecto to some desks in the corner. Alecto let them move, following each step. There was a strange feral movement to her clinical eyes. She watched them with objective coldness.

While her fellow classmates made their way to their seats, she pointedly ignored Professor Alecto, and mulled over her choice A), and B). A )being a good girl and apologizing was a hell of a lot less appealing than just B) waging a war against the new regime of Professors. She scrunched her eyes shut, stifling a groan. Fred and George would slap her if she did plan B). They had, despite what ever one believed, developed a method deeper than their pure chaos. After all even chaos needs good follow through, so they'd created what they had called the Weasley Terms for Systematic Destruction, which if done correctly would create the desired effect of complete chaos. The first term being: Know your aim, you can't destroy what you don't understand.

While Ginny was quite certain she knew what she wanted to destroy, she also knew that realistically it would take planning. Grinding her teeth, she raised her hand.

"Professor Alecto," She paused, desperately wanting to turn back, and retain her pride.

"I am sorry for being disrespectful. I apologize," Ginny continued, well aware that her face must be scarlet by now. Proffesor Alecto assessed her, staring, blank stares clashing violently, as they both refused to look away. Slowly, she blinked, turning with a flourish of dark robes. Ginny waited. The blink was too sudden, too devoid of cruelty to be her final mood. There must be something nastier to come, she thought.

The world twisted. It turned on it's side, jerking from her grasp. She screamed, and it tore into her throat. It felt like some one was trying to pull her spine from her back with sharp hot pokers. So much heat, and sharpness. Everything _felt _too started to eat at the corners of her vision, creeping to the center til that's all there was. Darkness. Distantly she heard that braying laugh.


	6. Another worry

She sat straight up, eyes wide, and looked about. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was in the library. She stared up at the towers of book cases. Her neck made an audible crick, that stirred the fire that had scorched her spine.

With a gasp, she leaned back into the chair. She settled into it's antique frame, and inhaled, trying to soothe her back. She sniffed. Deep aged mold, dry leather, woodsy paper. She was most certainly in the library. Attempting to survey her surroundings, with out actually moving, Ginny realized that she was effectively barred from view. She must be at the heart of the Library, where only students looking for absolute silence, or a secluded place to snog ventured. She was starting to wonder how exactly she had ended up here.

Instead of worrying over the unknown, she decided that it'd be more productive to just get out of here, and back to the common room. Ignoring the tiny slivers of pain that shuddered up each bone in her spine, she stood up. Massaging her neck, she looked around for her bag. She groaned, and hoped that it wasn't stolen. For the first time, she really studied the bindings of the books, hoping for a clue as to what section she was in. "_The enlightened guide to Gillyweed_" "_Mandrake root: a history". _She gently stroked their aged cracked leather, fingers brushing the engraved titles.

"Hmmm. Must be in Herbology," She said to herself, as she slid them back into to place.

"So I go…" Ginny stepped forward. I go, I go, she repeated in her head, desperately trying to conjure up the correct direction. I go east north? Or is west north? She thought. Lovely. She closed her eyes. Only one or the other, she thought, and then decided on east.

Slowly she made her way down the winding aisles, stopping ever so often to admire the bookcases. They shot to the ceiling, uneven tops, a city of various sky scrapers. Old thick ones with long forgotten symbols carved into their surface. New ones defaced with declarations of love, snippets of poems, and an incomprehensible collection of insults.

After a block or so, she decided that she was quite and utterly lost. As she turned, a short book case tucked away in the corner caught her eye. It was heavily scarred in vandalism. Deep jagged carvings had long since stripped it of it's mahogany dignity.

Her curiosity over rode her worry. This was going to be a bad day, being slightly less late wouldn't change anything. She stepped into the tiny corner, peering at the wood.

"Rita Skeeter and," she read quietly, trying to make out who else was encircled in the heart with her. The boy's name was etched away, an arrow pointed at Rita's name spelled W-H-O-R-E, in giant perfect bubble letters. She giggled.

"What else," She said, bending over to study the other bits. After ten minutes, she'd learned that Bellatrix was a bitch, Cornelius was a little too fond of Professor Montgomery, Snape was a prick who should stopping hitting on a girl he would never get.

"James + Lily, forever, and ever, and ever," She read. Something seemed familiar. She knew those names. With a mental jolt, she realized that those were Harry's parents names. She hooked her nail around the carvings, tracing the etched letters. They're dead, she thought. They loved, and sat right here, writing stupid teenage declarations, and they didn't even exist anymore. She shivered, unsure whether it was another draft of cold air, or _that _fear. It seemed like everyone was disappearing nowadays. Slipping right away from her grasp. I'll have to do something about that she thought, making a mental check list. Though I have no idea what.

She shrugged, and stiffly rose. Maybe someday, when things were better she'd take Harry here and show him. Hugging her arms to her chest trying to suppress the shivers, she made her way back, in long purposeful strides.

A hand clamped on her shoulder. She whirled around, kicking out and connecting solidly with bone. In a blinding flash of pent up nerves and feral aggression she brandished her wand.

"Bloody hell. Relax woman," Malfoy said. He rubbed his wounded shin. She lowered her wand without thinking, relinquishing her control. It occurred to her that it could just be him and her, for cases and cases of books. No one would know what happened to her. She wished that she could suppress that thought. Slinking a step or two away from him, she waited for him to stop the theatrics. After another minute of grumbling, he finally stood. After another thirty seconds of complaints, she lost her temper , snapping coldly, "You can kill innocent people in cold blood, but you can't handle a bruise?"

"What do you know about me?" he asked, cocking his head. The dim light of the library left his face in sharp black shadows. Threatening. Hours before, he was almost…nice, or at the very least, they'd had some sort of truce. He'd acted like maybe they could get along, then watched as that bitch Alecto attacked her. It was one thing if he had never been kind, but he had. And then he betrayed her in a second. So much for Slytherin loyalty.

"You're saying that you don't wanna grow up to be a big bad Death Eater, just like daddy?" Ginny taunted slowly, not even sure why she was antagonizing him, no skin of her nose if he changed his mind about being nice. He wasn't anything to her.

"Don't talk about my father, you mud blood trash," he said quietly, with a thick edge of uncharacteristic restraint, crouching down to look her in the eye.

"Fuck you. You talk shit about _my _father all the time! Whether you like it or not, my family is just as good as yours. Our bloodline is purer than half your precious miniature death eater friends," She yelled, then lowering her voice with a malicious smile, "Everybody knows that Pansy has a squib for a grandmother." The anger that had been building, slowly turning his eyes a deep blank slate, subsided in an instant. He relaxed, with a perplexed smirk of his lips.

"Why would I care about Pansy?" He asked. Ginny hesitated, her rant interrupted. This amused indifference was not what she'd expected. She'd been hoping for another bout of curses.

"Because," She said, now unsure.

"Don't you two have a…..thing?," Ginny answered for lack of a better word.

"That ended quite a while ago, and you can barely call it a 'thing', we shagged," Malfoy said with a cocky grin.

"Hmmm, am I supposed to congratulate you or something?" Ginny asked, before the awkward silence of too much information could slink in.

"She's really not a looker," Ginny continued, swiftly regaining her aloofness.

"Not like some,"Malfoy said, his eyes lingering on hers.

That stopped her. She tilted her head. If she didn't say anything, she'd look like an idiot, but if she was dumb enough to walk into a trap, assuming that she was a 'looker' like he wanted to, only for him to mock, she'd just about die of embarrassment. So, after a beat, she let her eyes flicker over his fit body, face void of emotion, and sauntered away, her hips swinging. Thankfully she sauntered in the right direction, and found herself outside the library within ten minutes, wondering what to make of Malfoy. She shrugged, and decided there were bigger things to worry about then some git who fancied himself damn hot. The impending doom of the wizarding world for one. The fact that she had most certainly missed all of her classes on the first day of school worrying her only slightly more.


	7. You're a bit thick

Ginny pressed her forehead to the scarlet tiles, sighing as her skin protested at the smooth cold surface. Hot water rushed down from her scalp in small waves. She wiped away a strand of heavy soaked auburn hair. The air was thick with steam, pressing on her lungs, she struggled to breathe. Thank god for showers, she thought. She had made it through her first week of sixth year, now if she could just stay in here for the rest of the year, then she'd be fine.

In the first seven days of class she had already been crucioed three times, lost six hundred fourty eight points from her house, had blood traitor tattooed in acid on her forearm, and on a more critical note, her shoes had been stolen. Now she had to walk around all day in Luna's too small blue and purple molted boots, made of some kind of exotic, and knowing Luna, non existent magical creature.

Ginny gingerly stroked the scar on her arm. The skin was a raised brilliant red, shiny taut pink at the curve of each letter. It burned twice the heat of the water. Blood Traitor. And damn proud of it, Ginny thought. She finally wound the energy to step out of the shower, and back into the cold thin air of the school again.

The next morning

The entire table of Gryffindor looked like they had been at war. Not a single body was as whole as it had been when it had entered the great hall a week ago. No one had escaped the cruelty of the new faculty. Some had the high ridged unnaturally red scars, like Ginny, in various logos anything from Blood Traitor, to Mudblood to Seamus, which oddly, just said in giant letters Scum. Others had molted patches of purple, deep bruises scattered on their young raw skin, some unfortunates had scabbed slashes, Lavender had a cut dangerously close to her eye.

Out of all the tables, Hufflepuff was faring the worst. They had neither the pure stubborn pride of the Gryffindors, nor the cunning wit of the Ravenclaws to get them through the day. Many had already developed that wide bug eyed hunted look of some one who's a sighs breath away from jumping. They cowered over their porridge, the younger children flinching at every sudden movement.

"Wellll, if we got through the first week, then the rest of the year is going to be a cake walk," Neville said, in what had some to be his trade mark optimism.

"Neville. Shut it," Harvey, a seventh year snapped.

"I'm just looking on the bright side of things," Neville said, he brandished a spoon, a glob of porridge of still clining to it , "you oughta try it some time." The thick grey slime landed on Harvey's robe, slowly sliding down, leaving a trail of textured glop.

Harvey stared down at the porridge, his face oddly blank, before he lunged across the table.

"You little fucker, can you do anything right?"he screamed. He tried to shove off the pitchers of juice, and plates of bacon, and breakfast sausage, the only barrier between him and Neville. Unfortunately by doing so, he only managed to push an entire pitcher of orange juice into Lavender's lap, along with a half finished dish of greasy waffles.

"Stupefiy." With a bang, and flash of red, Harvey collapsed on the table. Ginny was suddenly aware that she was the only one standing at a silenced table. Everyone stared at her, pretty sure that they ought to be mad that she had hexed a fellow Gryffindor, but too afraid to chastise her.

"Wot?" she asked, accent pronounced with crossness.

"Did you all have a better plan?" No one said a word, a few looked a bit sheepish.

"Like any of us care, he's a dumbfuck," Lavender said, glaring at Ginny. She scrubbed furiously at her robes.

"Scourgify," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. The mess disappeared from Lavender's lap. She glared again, sea glass eyes still a bit cross. The bell rung, echoing off the walls. It cut across the tension of Gryffindor table, and they all quickly rushed to classes. No one bothered to say goodbye.

"Ginny, I've been thinking," Neville said. He walked swiftly to keep up with her.

"Maybe, especially after this morning you shouldn't be doing any thinking," Ginny replied, only half teasing.

"We have to get," Neville paused looking around. The hall was abandoned, except for a few creaky rusting knights of armor.

"Organized," he said, whispering urgently in her ear. She shivered, and he stepped even closer as they walked. He tilted to the side so that he could talk to her. She would've pushed him off, but she was curious. He'd lost that childish serenity of this morning. He was serious. The slouching stuttering normal old Neville had been replaced, by pro-active confidant Neville. The one who could grab her waist casually without blushing the color of an over ripe strawberry.

"You mean, form an opposition against the Death Eaters that have taken over our school? By possibly using the old coins we had from D.A? And the room of requirement for our meeting place?" Ginny asked. Her eyes shown amber in the early morning rays. Neville stared, gape mouthed, transfixed by her glassy eyes, and untapped aptitude for general mischief.

"Yeah, I think that's a good start," He said, clearing his throat. Ginny had to hold back a grin. She'd been thinking about how she would get through this year, the entire summer, fantasized about being the new big bad, rule breaking Weasley, when she had the school all to her self. It was finally working for her.

Ginny sat hunched over her notebook, in the deafening tense silence of the aftermath of this morning's disaster. Everybody ate, slowly picking away at their lunch, but nothing more than a few half hearted questions about Potions homework were spoken.

She tried to remember the Weasley Terms for Systematic Destruction. So far she could only remember:

Know your aim, you can't destroy what you don't understand

Know your enemies, and more importantly, your allies

But she couldn't for the life of her, think of the other terms. She knew there was at least two other terms.

"Might as well start with Term 2," she mumbled to herself. No one noticed. She rolled her eyes. One little argument, over porridge, no less, and their entire house falls apart. She would definitely have to be choosy on who she considered her allies. Harvey was out, she thought, as she swung her bag over her shoulder, and made a quiet exit out of the dining hall. She did a quick glance over her shoulder, wand already pressed in the center of her hand. No one was there. Her shoulders released slightly, but she kept her wand poised. It was unwise, in these recent days to venture out alone in the hallways, but she wanted to get the coins from Dumbledore's Army from her luggage in the dorm room, and she didn't feel like beseeching any of her so-called-house-mates to go with her. Several students had learned that the hard way. It was hard for her to believe that the school year had just begun.

Grumbling, she climbed a staircase, re-reading Weasley Terms, considering who she could trust. Neville of course. And-

Someone tore the list out of her hands, in a quick jerk. She grinded her teeth, and took a deep breathe.

"Malfoy, fuck off," she said after taking one more breathe. She continued walking up the stairs. He didn't deserve a glance.

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked, in an uncharacteristically curious voice. He leapt the stairs between them, and walked by her side.

"Because you're the only one that does this sort of harassment," Ginny answered.

"What do you mean 'this sort of harassment'?" asked angrily, as he hopped a few steps in front of her, and began walking backwards, so that he could face her. It was oddly intimidating.

"You're the only one," Ginny paused, trying to gather up the words.

"You," she began hesitantly, "You're a Malfoy, and so you're cruel to me, and you let others hurt me."

"Oh, am I supposed to protect you?" He interrupted, with that smirk.

"No, of course you're not," Ginny snapped.

"What I don't understand, is why you're nice to me, or at least civil," Ginny said, and suddenly, Malfoy wasn't the intimidating one. Ginny looked up at his slate eyes, refusing to let him go. He shied away, looking at the floor briefly while he continued to stroll back wards. He looked back up at her, and stopped. She collided with him, too close, but he was the one who ran into her, so she'd be damned if she was going to move. His smirk was replaced by a smile, void of his normal hubris.

"You're a bit thick sometimes," he said softly, and walked away. He'd spoken quietly, Ginny thought, considering they were alone.

"Why?," she called. She would probably be infuriated if she knew what he was talking about.

"Because it's glaring obvious why," he called back over his shoulder, leaving her standing alone in the echoing hallways. The portraits stared at her from their place on the walls. They used students as their own personal soap operas.

"I don't have a clue what he's talking about," she told them earnestly, and continued on her way in luna's too small shoes.


	8. Traitor

"I have to say, I expected more of a turnout," Neville said to Ginny. They sat atop the table, gold coins in hand, feeling oddly powerful, considering that only three other people had shown up. The trippy rush of the beginning of rebellion was crashing. She grinned, teeth shut together. She'd expected more. More than five people in the corner of the library any way.

Colin and his brother Dennis sat on the floor, legs crossed waiting patiently. Luna sat beside them, staring at the ceiling, a serene smile on her face.

"So, I think we should begin then," Neville said enthusiastically. Ginny suppressed her disappointment, grinning widely, and telling herself that a rebellion has to start somewhere. She dearly wished she had Harry's charisma. He was able to scrounge together a following of thirty or forty students within the first two weeks. Obviously it was going to be a tad more difficult. They would need to word on their numbers.

"I think, that maybe, since it's just the five of us, we should sit together," she whispered to him.

"Yeah, that'd be a good idea, I think," Neville replied, rolling up his robes to his elbows. Ginny eyed the muscles as they flexed. She supposed if she could be objective, then she'd say that they were nicer than Harry's. It was nearly impossible to objective when you'd lusted after someone for years though.

"You miss him, don't you?" Luna asked suddenly. She gazed intently at Ginny.

"Who?" Ginny asked, startled. Half the time Luna was mad as a hatter.

"Harry of course," Luna replied.

"I-um, how did you…?" Ginny stuttered. It was one thing to be a little odd. It was a whole different story to be a mind reader. Oh god, if she was a nutter like Trealawny.

She and Neville glanced at each other quickly. Linked for a moment. Neville's gaze lingered, unbeknownst to Ginny.

"You always got that look on your face, whenever Harry used to walk by. I notice things sometimes," Luna explained. If it was any other person it would have sounded ominous. Still, Neville quickly shifted his gaze away from Ginny.

A stiff silence settled on the five of them for a few minutes. Ginny's love of Harry was common knowledge. Everyone had always expected them to marry. Since he hadn't returned this year, no one had gotten the nerve to ask about him though. They figured that some things were left unasked.

"Did I say something wrong?" Luna asked, after a gap. Denis caught her confuse blue eyes. He held her gaze for a few seconds then darted, to Neville and Ginny, held, then darted, held then darted, eyes like tiny tropical lizards.

"Are you alright? I think that Jnoorf might be possessing your body," Luna said.

"What's a" Colin thrust his elbow into his brother's side, before he could finish.

"Don't get her started," He whispered.

"Anyway," Neville announced his voice rising a hair, "What we've got to do is.." He faltered. His palms were damp on Ginny's arm. She gave him a smile. That's all he ever needed before. He just had to get a push.

"What we need," he began again, "Is more members. So I think for our first matter of business I decree" Ginny pinched him, a quick squeeze of tight upper arm. Let's not get cocky Neville she thought.

"We decree, all of us," he said, looking around the circle, "To find erm, five or four members. That sounds about right?"

They bobbed heads, and spewed agreements.

"Sounds good."

"Yeah."

"Yup."

"Mhhhmmm."

"I'm not very good with people."

Everyone's bobs froze. Brows furrowed, and raised, unsure. Ginny blanched; sometimes she forgot how cruel people could be to Luna.

"Well, that's just fine, you don't have to do as many people," Ginny said. She hoped that she'd distracted Luna.

"But….I won't be very helpful," Luna said, dismayed.

"What's the point in me helping if I can't really help?" She asked, to a stunned four. Lucid azul eyes began to rain. Denis wiggled for a second, and then with a giant arching motion whipped out of his pocket a checkered handkerchief. He crept on his knees towards Luna, and handed it to her, questioningly.

"I'm sure we can find something else for you to do," He said, as she held his kerchief. She pressed it to her cheek.

"That'd be lovely. I want to help," she said, to the rest of them.

"Okay," Ginny said, with that note of finality.

"I think that this meeting is adjourned. Let's go our separate ways," Ginny said. She knew she sounded a little too enthusiastic, but Merlin did she need a break. She had brothers, many, many brothers, she didn't like all these tears. She was a girl, but a very bad one. Emotional breakdowns with near strangers had never been her thing. She had always saved that for Hermione.

Everyone rose, either not hearing the zest, or being kind, and pretending to not hear it. They milled out of the room, Luna and Neville bumping into each other.

"You should talk to Ginny, Neville. If Denis is possessed by a Jnoorf then any minute, she could be taken over, and then you couldn't ask her out for months. Jnoorfs don't like to be snogged," Luna said. Neville blushed.

"I'll do that Luna," Neville promised. He looked ahead to see if Ginny heard Luna, it would've saved him many hours of fumbling sentences, but she was already gone.

"Hey, you're not as Looney as I thought you were," Neville said. He took another look at Luna. She smiled serenely, pleased.

Ginny sat on the edge of the tower. She needed this break. Everyday, after she ended classes, she came here, away from everyone. Her bare feet dangling against the mossy stone side. It was a long way down. She peered at the ground, leaning forwards. A thrill went up her spine. What would happen if she was to fall?

That thought pulled her back. Nothing. Her parents probably wouldn't know for months, with the Death Eaters hold on Hogwarts. And beside, that small lonely part of her that she tried to push aside, whispered that they hadn't noticed when she was possessed by Tom, why would they notice if she died when they had sons halfway across the world, doing something. Fighting, helping the cause.

Would Harry care? Of course, he would care some, but would he really care? Would he be different if she died? Or would life be exactly the same for him? She wondered sometimes, how much more she loved him, than he loved her. She missed him.

Inhaling deeply, she rolled her eyes. Being a teenage was just so…angsty. She couldn't wait til' she was an adult. Then things would be normal.

She sighed. The mountains looked so peaceful. The sun was just beginning to crest. Evergreens blanketed the hills, jutting into the horizon. Maybe she should go live with giants, she mused, and get some more recruits, so far she only had five new members. So many things to do, so little time. She hopped off the sill, and bent down to slip on Luna's shoes. A flicker of movement from the corner of her vision. She waited til she was done tying the laces before she stood again. No point in hexing some snotty Syltherin if she couldn't even walk. No one was there. Funny, cause she could've sworn that someone was in the doorway. A tall blonde someone. He's a Slytherin, but he's not that weird, she thought. She shrugged it off as paranoia.

Ginny watched Snape from across the room. She wasn't supposed to know that he killed Dumbledore. She wasn't supposed to know loads of things though. Her parents, the Trio, the Order of the Phoinex, that whole lot didn't seem to get that they could either tell her the truth, and control what she heard, or force her to sneak about to get the common knowledge. Not that she was advocating for them to control her, but it would've been nice to get a base of every day knowledge, and then have to sneak around to get the juicy bits. Now if she wanted to know so much as the color of the sky was she was best off investigating the truth herself, chances are her parents would tell her to mind her own business, the sky didn't affect her.

What she couldn't understand, was how you could kill someone, and just sit there, eating your peas and potatoes, drinking your pumpkin juice, as if they never mattered. In Dumbledore's own chair no less! Snape had betrayed everyone, he'd killed the kindest, gentlest man to ever live, and he wasn't any different.

Ginny leaned on the table, chin resting on fist, elbow digging into the hard wood, trying to see. He was a Slytherin, and while they certainly didn't have a good track record, it didn't automatically make him evil, she thought. Draco isn't evil, she repeated. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He was….faded. Looked a bit ill, like someone hadn't let him seen the light of day in six years, and only fed him twice a week.

She looked back at Snape, and found herself, jerked quite suddenly into their obsidian depths. She blinked first, breaking the trance. He wasn't that Snape any longer. He had no right to think himself better than her. She sneered at him, straightening her back.

"Murder." She mouthed silently. He flinched, as if she'd screamed it. She smiled, selfsatisfied.

"Mudblood lover." He mouthed silently back, black eyes narrowed to slits of night. He was calling her a blood traitor? After everything he had done? She fired back, aware of the red bluch that was creeping along her cheeks.

"Killer."

"Filth."

"Betrayer."

"Trash."

"Traitor." Ginny said, and ended it with that. She may be poor, but she was not filth, and she'd never be a traitor. She won.


	9. Ravenclaw?

"I assigned six pages of parchment, you only have four," Professor Dolohov said. He griped Ginny's paper in a giant harry fist, and crumpled it into a ball flicking it into the trash can. He leaned forward, leering, the sort of man that Ginny would cross the road to avoid, if she ever had the displeasure of meeting him on the street. She wasn't sure, but she got the distinct feeling that he was looking down her robes. She refused to let him ruin her good mood. He'd singled her out from the beginning; her hair had marked her as a Weasley.

"Do you have an excuse, filthy traitor?" He asked, and waited. Ginny had learned that the longer she put off answering him, the angrier her got. He was a right nutter. It always gave her a sort of twisted satisfaction to see how mad she could possibly make him. They'd settled into a fair pattern where she would do everything she could do to enrage him, without actually breaking any rules, or being out-right rebellious. He in turn would do his best to go out of his way to torment her. Part of her knew that it was a very bad idea to egg him on. A short fuse and ferocious temper seemed to be a trend in the Death Eaters.

"I would if you were looking at my face, not down my blouse," Ginny answered, smoothly. She criss-crossed her ivory fingers together, like a patient teacher. It took him a second and a half to catch what she'd said. Everyone gaffed as his face begun to turn that veined, purple tinged rage.

Malfoy watched from the corner. He didn't laugh. He'd decided that the line between bravery, and stupidity was too often blurred in Gyffindors. They never seemed to grasp that they were two entirely different traits. He waited. There was a hum, an electricity that was palpable, whenever an unforgiveable curse was going to be admonished. That buzzing static always seemed to follow Weasley. Odd, because he'd thought her such a quiet, dull girl last year, now, his eyes never left her.

"Crucio," Dolohov screamed. A blinding force, like staring into the sun, after a long dark night struck her temple. She flinched, fingernails digging into her palm, but refused to topple.

"You muggle loving scum aren't fit to kiss the dirt on my shoes," He growled, and threw another crucio. By then everyone, all the new recruits to Dumbledore's army edged forward. Casually, but threateningly creating a wall of people surrounding Ginny.

Dolohov glowered at them, but let them go as the bell rang. He spat on Ginny's crumpled paper.

...................................................................

"Life'd be a hell of a lot easier, if you could just shut you're damn mouth," Draco said. He struggled to keep up with Ginny. It'd been weeks since he'd had a good night sleep, and it was beginning to show. His hair was a mess, strands every which way, but since he was blessed with the looks of a male model, it didn't detract much from his overall appearance. The most tell-tale sign of his fatigue was the silver shadow that graced his jaw, a few days growth of beard, on a normally smooth, bare face.

"Yes, well life would be a lot easier if Dumbledore was alive," Ginny snapped back quickly. Then it occurred to her, that he was not her friend. He wasn't even really a good acquaintance. He was just a boy, who hated her part of the time, ignored her in cold indifference another part of the time, and acted as if maybe one day they could be friends, in that one tiny sliver during which they where completely and utterly alone. He wasn't exactly what one would call dependable, or trustworthy.

"Did you care, when Dumbledore died?" Ginny asked, before she could give him time to consider her previous statement. She nearly caught him off guard.

"He was a muggle lover, a traitor. Why would I give a damn?" Malfoy asked. He stared at the stairs in front of them, as he answered.

"Because, he was a good person," Ginny said with such simplicity that Draco had to glance at her. She stared back at him, autumn brows furrowed. How could he not care, at all in the littlest bit? Draco didn't answer. He suddenly found his shoes incredibly interesting, refusing to look up, and get caught in another one of her sorrowful amber gazes.

"Why are you walking with me anyway?" Ginny asked. A change in subject would do them good. Draco brightened at the diversion. She wasn't the most tactful girl, but god, sometimes she was blissfully unlike Pansy, and all the other girls in his house. She didn't dwell. She didn't dig subjects raw. She didn't whine. She was quite and utterly different.

"I'm protecting you, from all the big bad mother fuckers that you seem to have a talent for aggravating," Draco replied.

"No you aren't, I'm serious," Ginny moaned.

"You don't think that you're making enemies?" Malfoy asked, slightly shocked. Maybe she was thicker than he'd thought.

"I realize that I have many, many enemies. I'm not a complete idiot," Ginny said rolling her eyes, "I just don't think that you're protecting me."

"What, you don't think I'm capable of defending you?"

"No, I think that you are a Malfoy. Malfoys don't help others unless they get something out of it. And you don't get anything out of me."

"I get the entertainment of watching you stumble through life. That alone is worth keeping you alive."

"Oh, I'm glad that my life has the same worth to you as a Quiditch game," Ginny teased. They huffed up the stairs, slowly making their way towards Professor Alecto.

"I heard a rumor that you had chance to kill Dumbledore, but didn't," Ginny said, as if they were talking about last Thursday's homework, not the implication that he was both a coward( at least by his standards) or a cruel, sociopathic Deather Eater( her standards). Sometimes she really couldn't help herself. A bit like Ron in that respect, though she'd never admit it. Malfoy, stepped back, as she continued walking. No one was supposed to know about his failure. It was his only. His own personal shame was not as secret as he thought.

"Where did you hear that?" He asked. His eyes turned his father's blank silver, in the dim light of the corridor. He stepped closer to her, towering over, strand of hair falling in his face.

"I have my sources." Ginny said quietly. She was too aware that it was just them for blocks and blocks of empty hallway. Not one of her best judgements on the whole, she had to say, as she refused to budge. Moving away would prove that she was intimidated, the last thing she needed to do was give him the upper hand. It wasn't as if she didn't know he was a Death Eater. She'd always known. It was a great deal harder to accept though, in person.

"Who told you?" He asked, voice like velvet.

"None," Ginny said, backing away forcefully.

"Of your damn business," she continued walking, eyes never leaving his face.

"If there is a rumor about me, it's my damn business," Malfoy said, the cold mask of calm slipping away to angry teenager. Ginny continued accelerated her speed. He walked faster. She was beginning to feel like that man in the Muggle movie, Jurassic Park, that she'd seen last summer, when he was in the back of the car, and the giant T-rex was chasing them, so close to being bitten in two.

"Look, if it's a rumor, then you don't have to worry, it isn't true," Ginny said, waving her hands.

"We both know that it is true though, so the last thing I need is you passing that information around," Malfoy said, voice back to the same sleek, smooth volume it always had when he was about to make a move.

"Well…..," Ginny said slowly.

"You better be nice to me then," she said, and turned. She skipped up the stairs without looking back.

.................................................................................................

When she was sure, that she had left him behind, standing, fuming, angry, and confused, she began to run. Her legs stretched far, muscles straining, as she listened to her own huffing breathing. It was so nice to move. To really move, without all eyes watching her, monitoring her, sending her contradicting messages about their feelings for her. She came to a halt at intersection of the hallways. It'd be wonderful, if life was just a simple movie. She could be that pretty girl, who unfortunately wears glasses, and so, of course is automatically considered deformed. And Malfoy could be that rich boy, who is an ass, but has a sensitive soul. And at the very end of their story, he could take off her glasses, and she would be beautiful, and he would be nice, and they'd live happily ever after.

Except, there it shouldn't be Malfoy at all. It ought to be Harry. Harry who left her behind. Harry who didn't seem to realize that she'd have given the world to go along with him, and Ron, and Hermione, and for once really belong to their damn exclusive trio. But no, she was at Hogwarts. With Malfoy.

She leaned against the wall, while she caught her breathe. He was a bad boy. A very bad, potentially dangerous boy. Not that he liked her, chances were he was just playing a game. But…say he did like her, it shouldn't matter. There are a thousand boys, or at the very least, maybe Neville, that she could get in a heart beat.

Oh, she couldn't wait til Harry came back. If he was here, none of the other boys would matter. Weird Malfoy flirtations didn't have anything on him. It was odd though, because her heart used to speed up whenever she thought of Harry. Too much giddy hormones, and what she thought was possibly, just a tiny bit of love, but now, it was a lethargic, half existent, flutter. She'd always thought that absence made the heart grow fonder, but maybe she'd been wrong.

.........................................................................................................

Ginny spent half an hour pointedly ignoring Malfoy, and listening to professor Alecto's rant. Apparently, muggles were dirty animals, who deserved to be destroyed. While Alecto was explaining how the muggles were killing the planet with their vehicles, and using all the natural resources, Ginny felt and elbow dig into her ribs.

"Tomorrow is Halloween," Neville whispered. He silently slid closer, when Alecto turned her back to draw a picture of a muggle car on the board.

"Yes, so?" Ginny whispered back.

"I think that we should step up. Do bigger things," Neville said.

"Tomorrow would be great to make a actual, put together, fully formed rebellion," Neville said. Ginny frowned. He was very enthusiastic, though he did have every right to be. They hadn't done much, other than gather members from the three houses, and that had been dull work.

"But," she began to argue, then stopped. She didn't want to be The Girl. The chick who shot everyone's ideas down, who nagged, and prodded. Basically Hermione. Half the time she was right. Most the time she was right, but since she always had to be the voice of reason, the boys usually ignored her.

"Ok, so how are we going to put this together exactly? I'm assuming you've got a plan?" Ginny said. Neville grinned. It looked foreign now, the same sheepish smile that used to grace his chubby face.

"Alright then…..I'll think on it," Ginny said, doing her best to pretend to be annoyed. She honestly didn't give a damn. They could throw something together.

"How much time have I got? Til, what eleven, twelve, and then we'll meet?" She asked absently, already thinking.

"No, uh, actually, you've got til about eight or so," Neville said. He fiddled with his pen, and refused to look her in the eyes.

"Eight? Really Neville, you said you wanted to get organized. This is not organized by any definition of the word. You better give me more warning next time," Ginny huffed. Rising in her chair. Surprisingly stern.

"I'm sorry. You can do this can't you?" Neville asked. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Of course I can do this. It isn't a matter of can, or can't it's a matter of time," Ginny whispered. She glanced up to see if Alecto was watching them. She'd gotten pretty good at dodging her gaze. Every since their encounter on the first day of school, Ginny had been a model student, staying way below Alecto's radar.

"You are coming with me, when the bell rings," Ginny whispered.

"Where to?" Neville asked. Ginny folded her hands, resting her head lightly, as she stared vacantly out the window.

"The Ravenclaw house," She answered, lips thin. Neville slumped in his seat.

"The Ravenclaw house?"

"The Ravenclaw house."

"But-but," Neville stuttered. He searched for the least insulting words, they were their allies after all.

"They're such condescending wankers," He finally supplied.

"Yes, but they're the smartest condescending wankers in our school, they can help us figure out the mechanics of all this." Neville sighed, then comprehension dawned.

"Oh, so you have a plan already?"

"Yes. I have a plan. I'm not a Weasley for nothing. Ron may not be the brightest candle in the bunch, but he really is the black sheep of the family. Everyone else is smart…more or less, they just hide it."

"So, what's the plan?" Neville mummered in Ginny's ear, so low and deep.

"I'm not telling you. You're just going to have to come along, and find out," Ginny said coyly. There were so many other boys than Malfoy. So many boys, other than Harry, not that she was sure that she wanted, to want them, at least more than him, but still, it was nice to have options. Even is she didn't want to want them.

She gazed happily around the room, as the class drew to an end. Finally, everyone began to leave the classroom. Malfoy paused at the door frame. He stared at her for a moment. Grey eyes in amber. Then he left.

Screw him. He was far too confusing, and evil, and….odd. Ginny hooked her arm in Neville's and they made their way down to the Ravenclaw dormitory.

...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

"Okay, Neville. I don't really need your help. I've got it all under control," Ginny said, once they reached the 'secret' entrance of the homeroom. It was a rather dull looking broom closet, which never failed to disappoint those in search of a grand, maze, or beautiful carved riddle. Sometimes, simplicity was the cleverest.

"Then why did you drag me all the way here?" Neville asked, without an ounce of annoyance.

"I wanted company," Ginny replied. It was half a truth. When Ron, and Harry, and Hermione had been there, someone was always about to walk her to her classes. Granted it was damn annoying when Ron did it, but she didn't mind Hermione, or Harry.

"Oh. Okay," Neville said, willing to accept this as just another craziness of women. Before Ginny reached the doorway, Neville caught her waist, and spun her. In a whirl of autumn hair she faced him, only a tad startled. He'd gotten in the habit of twirling her.

"I-can I ask you something?" Neville stuttered. He knew that he probably shouldn't but, his curiosity over road the little common sense he had with girls. Ginny nodded. She suddenly remembered that it was customary to bring a date to the Halloween dinner. She hadn't given much thought to it, as of late. Finding a date just didn't make it to the top of her list, especially when students were banned from congregating. The Death Eater faculty had borrowed a bit from Umbridge's rules, and decided that no students should gather, even in twos. But now, it occurred to Ginny, that neither she nor Neville had dates.

"I was wondering, if you and Malfoy are…?"Neville let the question fade. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"I was just wondering if you two are friends. I see you and him around a fair bit. Are you doing, I dunno, and undercover, Slytherin operation, or something?" He asked. While talking, he began to realize how stupendously idiotic he sounded, and by the reddening of Ginny's ears, she did too.

"Malfoy and I are not friends," Ginny said. Her lips began to tremble. She struggled to remain composed. She gnawed on her cheek. Neville watched her suddenly dissolve, bewildered. He wasn't sure what he'd done, but somehow he had made her cry.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do whatever I did. Honestly. Don't cry Ginny, I'm sorry. Don't cry," Neville said. He wrapped his arms around her, 'cause he saw a boy in a motion picture do it once, and it seemed to work for him.

Ginny closed her eyes, letting the tears well, and spill over her cheek bones. There were so few people she truly liked to being with. She couldn't bare to sit with Lavender, and all those other dolts. Everyone kept leaving. Ron promised to never leave her. Harry promised to never love her, because he would only get her killed. Stupid git. Without Hermione, the only female friend she had left was Luna, and she was halfway insane. And stupid Malfoy vaguely implied that he could kill her, or maybe that he couldn't, but if he would, he wouldn't feel bad, even though he'd protect her, or maybe he was lying about that bit. She had absolutely no idea what he wanted actually.

So, she cried into Neville's chest, sturdy and broad, and the most solid thing she'd encountered in the two months they'd been at school. He was so dependable. So safe. Finally, after a few minutes of balling in which, she was certain she looked just as crazy as Luna, she slowly unwrapped herself from him.

"I'm sorry. I'm a girl. We get emotionally sometimes," Ginny explained.

"Makes sense," Neville said. They stood, bodies too close to be 'just' friends.

"I've got to go, but I'll see you in a few hours," she said as she walked backwards to the Ravenclaw door. Neville nodded, and turned, walking away. Hand on the knob, Ginny sighed, then ran, feet softly smacking the hallway. Neville stopped, and cocked his head.

"Neville…."

"Yeah?"

"You want-,"Ginny broke off, and then with the complete certainty that it didn't matter at all asked, "Would you like to accompany me to the Halloween dance?"

"Me?" Neville said, stunned. He'd never dreamed that she'd ask him. Well, he did, quite a lot, but he never thought she really would.

"Yeah."

"I'd love to," He said, with an ounce of too much enthusiasm.

"I'll see you then," Ginny said, practicing what she hoped was her seductive look. She walked back to the Ravenclaw dormitory, and disappeared inside. She had a plan to make.


End file.
